3.25.99

1 p.m.

    There's nothing worse than being told that you have the day off and then being asked to come out into the pouring rain to walk a single dog. Grrrr.

    Today's a Bob Dylan kind of day. It's a day where you ought to just curl up with a soft blankie and read a book. You don't get too many of these kinds of days around here. But, unfortunately, I can't find my Bob Dylan 2 CD set and I'm going to have to go back out into the rain to go to a doctor's appointment, get the oil changed on the car, go to Sears and then pick up T. from work. While, I write this, BB King: Live in Cook County Jail will have to suffice.

    If you hadn't heard through my mailing list, I finally got the money I was owed from the Vigorous Idiot. I sent him an email outlining the steps that I was going to take to get my money and, lo and behold, a Fed Ex envelope appeared at my doorstep bearing a money order made out to me. Good boy. Good, stupid boy.

    Now what? Well, I'm going to buy a scanner, top of the line, and some zip disks and walkie-talkies for our trip up to Portland. T. and I will both be driving. Last night, in celebration, I took T. out to Bruno's and we talked a bit. The ironic thing about dinner is I can't remember the last time we ate so cheaply. It seems when we have little money we order too much. I had the Bruno's special pizza which wasn't as nirvana-inducing as I recall it being the last time I had it. I also had a yummy glass of Cabernet Sauvignon, my favorite red wine. T. had a caesar salad and an iced-tea. The total was $19.95. We both had a laugh at that. No matter, the money will be gone before I know it. We have plenty of things to spend it on.

7:30 p.m.

    I got the oil and whatnot changed in the car to prepare for our long drive. I didn't make it to Sears but I did pick up T. and we went to look for some more RAM for his 486 Linux box that he's put together. CompUSA, the most useless computer store in existance, didn't have it but we looked over the scanners and now I need to go through all my notes I've been culling in the last year about what type to buy. I also made it to the doctor and got my meds.

    I'll be glad to switch doctor's when I get to Portland. The one I've been to is such an old, stupid fart. I really dislike him. He's round about 72, at least, and every time I go in there he semi-grills me about why I don't have children.

Old Fart: How many kids?
Me: None.
Old Fart: How old are you?
Me: 23
Old Fart: Planning on having some?
Me: Not for awhile.
Old Fart: Why? Big family?
Me: No. Two brothers.
Old Fart: You must be the oldest.
Me: Ummm...No.

I mean, hello?! What a nosy, stupid, arrogant, patronizing, old fart windbag! He went on to ask me what I did and when I told him web design he asked if I worked at home. He went on to suggest that that must be a good thing and will be great for when kids come along.

    I very much wanted to shove his stethoscope far, far up into a dark and uncomfortable place. Maybe then he could listen to his own ass for once instead of talking out of it.